Subha Nababorsho!

I am a datawarehouse developer. I develop performance reports for big small companies (can’t think of any simpler definitions for what I do). In all such projects majority of the work is driven by fiscal calendar. And it is very confusing sometimes. We Bengalis were smarter that way. No such Julian/fiscal rubbish. Year begins with halkhata.

April 15th, dawn of another Bengali new year. 1417. A very hot day, with frequent power cuts. My pc monitor’s gone bust. Because of the heat or me consistently fisting it (that’s what has been recently needed to get it started) I don’t know.

Thought of taking a nap in the afternoon but my manager called me up and said that I had to fix a bug in my report. And that was urgent. Like it ever was otherwise! By the time I was done I was feeling none too sleepy.

Went to my would-be apartment for want of anything better. The place cools my nerves. My promoter says hopefully he’d finish my apartment by this year. I tell him that I am in no particular hurry as the more he makes me wait the more will I be able to appreciate the money I am putting in. Spent the evening discussing marble and tile shades with ma. The discussion didn’t go so well and one thing led to another as she ended up prophesizing that I will be going for cheap hotels in my post-marriage vacations. God bless womankind!

Downloaded some old melodies from Guide, Nikaah and some Ghazals. Having a great time grooving to them. S.D.Burman rocks, and so does Rafi.

There are some people who are exceptional abiders of courtesy. It is nothing short of a pleasure to have them as clients.

Fortunately in my case, last impression is not the lasting impression. Fortunate for others that is.

Review: Clash of the Titans 2010

Clash of the Titans is a disappointment. The movie had a great story-line; an improvised version of the actual tale of the Greek hero Perseus. The journey of the brave soldiers of Argos lead by young Perseus to save the Greek city of Argos, is a fascinating read. But the movie fails to leave any mark, thanks to some very poor screenplay, cliched dialogues, and a disaster climactic battle (no battle at all). The stellar cast is no help. Goes to show that big names do not make a big movie. This Avatar guy fails to impress. Liam Neeson and Ralph Fiennes cannot do enough to salvage anything out of the general wreck. Only plus, Gemma Arterton (remember the oil-painted girl from Quantum of Solace?) looks ravishing, so much so that you don't mind her being brought back from the dead. She is clearly out of little Sam's league as the couple don't ever kiss. Visuable effects are good but do not inspire awe.

Now I feel like I should go watch the MGM version of 1981.

Kolkata Knight Riders lose despite posting an incredible total. A dismal sunday. I hate sundays. And it's not just the cricket. I am, truth be told, the most indifferent person when it comes to cricket, or any sports that is. I was watching KKR in their defeat for want of anything better. And they lost and made me unhappy. And my 500 gig harddrive's wiped clean. So no finding sympathies in movies.
I hate sundays. Only reason I can find to do otherwise is to look forward to my monday blues. I look best in blue. And monday, albeit with so much workload, is the day I love the most. Remember good old school days? How each one of us loved to be at school. Well, if we did not relish it at the moment, it must have left the most definite after-taste.
Personally speaking, I know good when it hits me. I loved school. I hated high-school. I fancied college, to a considerable extent. But there was always something missing. I could tell. In college, I did not have a goal. I was just following brownian motion. Some may love this random non-chalance. But I could not.

I love mondays. Because I love my work. I love my work. Because I like the people that surround me there. And most importantly, it gives me a goal, no-matter however mundane. It requires not just brilliance but also some cunning. It is strange how managing your success sounds so much better than manipulating your way, though both imply the same. Some part of me would like to believe that a broken poet deserves much better. I feel, "A broken poet couldn't have done any better."

Till tomorrow. :)


P.S. An oppurtunist is a hero who makes good of the oppurtunities presented. Like Jack Sparrow says, "There is no good or bad, there is just that which you can do and that which you cannot!"

There was a time when I maintained a half-descent blog. I still like to read some. It was good to see an old friend return to his writing ways. That he did a long time ago, but it was tonight that I realized this, (although now I remember him mumbling something like that to me over the phone a few weeks back) following this link and that until I bumped into him.
Then there is a dear friend abroad who has taken up blogging of late and makes good of it. And ofcourse there is one other who I have followed religiously (no prizes for guessing WHO!). Many of my friends wish that I'd keep blogging. For among close friends I was better off than most, what with working from my hometown and living with my parents. Little-or-no-worry lifestyle they'd say.

The truth is my blogging is like my behaviour - abrupt. Bold! Maybe sometimes, but mostly abrupt.